Heaven, Texas (Chicago Stars #2)(48)

A moan slipped through her lips as she felt the exquisite pain of the cold on such a sensitive part of her. Her legs instinctively parted as the flesh between them throbbed. She wanted more. She sobbed as he toyed with both nipples, pinching them between his thumb and index finger to warm them, only to dip back into the ice cream and chill them again.

“Oh, please…Please…” She realized she was begging him, but she couldn’t stop herself.

“Easy, sweetheart. Take it easy.”

He continued to paint her nipples with cold, rub them warm, then paint them again. Fire and ice. She had turned to fire. Heat burned between her legs while her nipples puckered with need. Her hips began to move in an ancient rhythm and she heard herself sob.

His fingers stilled on her breasts. “Sweetheart?” But she could no longer talk. She was on the brink of something inexplicable.

He lifted his hand from her breast and slipped it between her legs. She felt the heat of his touch through the thin fabric of her panties as he moved the heel of his hand against her.

Just like that, she shattered.





9




Bobby Tom stood in the center of the clean linoleum and gazed out the rear windows of the motor home while he waited for Gracie to finish her shower so he could take one himself. He was more shaken by what had happened than he cared to admit. For all his experience with women, he’d never seen one come like that. He’d barely touched her and she had shot right over the edge.

Afterward, they had cleaned up the kitchen in silence. Gracie had refused to look at him, and he’d been so upset with her that he hadn’t wanted to talk. What in the hell had she been thinking to stay a virgin all this time? Didn’t she understand she was too responsive to have denied herself one of life’s most basic pleasures?

He wondered whether he was madder at her or at himself. He’d needed every bit of his self-control to keep from ripping those little bikini underpants right off her and taking advantage of what she was offering. And why hadn’t he? Because she was Gracie Snow, dammit, and he’d given up mercy f*cking a long time ago. It was too damned complicated.

Right then he made up his mind. His sex drive was back in full force, and he was going to fly to Dallas the minute he got a chance. When he got there, he intended to pay a call on a beautiful divorcée he knew, who liked the free and easy life as much as he did and was more interested in gettin’ naked than in having candlelight dinners and long conversations. Once he stopped living like a monk, he’d stop being tempted by Gracie Snow.

He remembered he hadn’t fetched her suitcase from the trunk of his T-bird as he’d promised, and he let himself out of the trailer. In the distance, he saw some of the crew members gathered over by the corral. He was glad they were far enough away that he wouldn’t have to explain why he was covered with dried-up ice cream.

Just as he opened the trunk of the car, he heard a drawling voice coming from behind him. “Well, well. And here I thought it was dog shit I smelled. What’s that crap you got all over you?”

He extracted the suitcase without turning. “Good to see you, too, Jimbo.”

“That’s Jim. Jim, you understand?”

Bobby Tom turned slowly to face his old nemesis. Jimbo Thackery looked as big and dumb as ever, even in uniform. His dark eyebrows grew so close together they almost met in the middle, and he had the same five o’clock shadow Bobby Tom swore he could remember from kindergarten. The police chief wasn’t stupid—Suzy’d said he’d been doing a good job ever since Luther had appointed him—but he sure looked that way with his burly body and big head. He also had too many teeth, and he was displaying every one of them in a smarmy grin that made Bobby Tom want to do a little creative dentistry with his fist.

“I guess if the ladies could see you now, Mr. Movie Star, they wouldn’t think you’re such a stud.”

Bobby Tom regarded him with exasperation. “Tell me you aren’t still holding a grudge about Sherri Hopper. That was fifteen years ago!”

“Hell, no.” He ambled toward the front of the T-bird and put his foot up on the bumper. “Right now I’m holding a grudge because you’re endangering the citizens of this town by driving around in a car with a broken headlight.” He pulled out a pink pad and, grinning widely, began to write out a ticket.

“What broken head—” Bobby Tom stopped. Not only was his left front headlight broken, but pieces of glass lay on the ground beneath it, giving him a pretty good idea who’d kicked it in. “You sonova—”

“Careful, B.T. Around here, you’ve got to watch what you say to the law.”

“You did that, you bastard!”

“Hey, B.T. Jim.”

Jimbo stopped what he was doing and turned to grin at the dark-haired woman in the tinkling silver bracelets who came up behind them. In a bid to catch his attention, Connie Cameron, Bobby Tom’s old girlfriend and the woman who operated the catering truck, had done everything but undress in front of him since he’d arrived yesterday. Now, as he saw the love lights glimmering in Jimbo’s eyes, he resigned himself to more trouble.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Jimbo brushed his mouth over her lips. “I go off duty in a few minutes, and I thought I’d take you out for dinner. Hey, B.T., did you hear that me and Connie are engaged? We’re tying the knot at Thanksgiving and we’re expecting a real nice wedding present from you.” Jimbo gave him a smirk and went back to writing out the ticket.